Playing Santa
by brightblue
Summary: Missing scenes/post-episode for "Faith." Tony and Ziva exchange gifts. Holiday, Tiva fluff.
1. Chapter 1

_Spoilers: Through Season 7's "Faith." This is a post-ep for that episode, so if you haven't seen it, this probably won't make much sense. _

_Disclaimer: In the spirit of the season, can't we all just share? I promise to give them back much happier than their original condition._

_Warning: Serious fluff and cliché action ahead. You've been warned! Grab your eggnog and molasses cookies, sit back, and enjoy!_

_A.N.: I tried to whip this out pretty quickly. I know many things here have been done before, but this is my take on it… Many thanks and hugs to Ana for all the Tiva-analyzing that inspired this and for being my willing guinea pig. _

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**Playing Santa**

_Christmas Eve_

_The Squadroom, 5:47pm_

"You can do this, DiNozzo," Tony mutters to himself. "It's just a doll. What's the worst that could happen? She could swing her stocking filled with coal at your family diamonds, thus ending the DiNozzo line once and for all?"

He chuckles into the dark bullpen at the mental image. Dolores is wearing striped knee socks and fake pointy ears in his vision; the curl of her elf-shoes mirroring the steep downturn of her lips.

"Do not worry, Tony, I will not let her harm your precious gems," a voice suddenly murmurs into his ear. Tony jumps three feet off his chair. The cackle that follows in response leaves no denying exactly who ambushed him in the otherwise silent space.

"It's _jewels_, Cindy Lou Who," he snarls as he turns to face his partner. Then, on further thought, he adds, "Though I don't see how that's any better than gems."

"Exactly," Ziva nods, as if she had known the distinction all along. Out of habit, he tracks her every movement as she first leans against his desk, then shifts her weight so she's sitting on top of it. His eyebrows rise as he watches her wiggle her way closer to him and the festively wrapped present taking up most of his workspace.

"What are you doing here?" He asks because he is sure that is what she expects him to ask, though he knew as soon as he dropped the time and date of his Secret Santa exchange into conversation that Ziva would get it. That Ziva would come.

Ziva just shrugs and picks at the bow on his present. She ignores his hand when he tries to swat her away. She ignores his question, too.

"What did you get her?" Her eyes narrow as she studies the gift. He doesn't doubt her super ninja senses can detect exactly what he spent hours trying to find the day before, then spent even more hours trying to wrap with his bruised hand. In the end, his neighbor, Mrs. Clark, had taken pity on him and worked magic with gold ribbon.

Every year, he declares he loves Christmas. Then, every year, it manages to let him down. He sighs. He watches Ziva with interest as she bends her body, trying to get closer to the present, and gives the box a tentative shake. She arches an eyebrow at him, but he gives nothing away.

"Stop being so nosy or Santa will put coal in your stocking, too," he scolds as he moves the box out of Ziva's reach. She watches it go with a dejected face but makes no move to follow it. If anything, she scoots closer to him. Then, his words sink in. Her face contorts. Tony smirks when he imagines Dolores and Ziva arguing over the last of Santa's coal. It's better than nothing, the Scrooge of HR grumbles as Ziva lands a roundhouse kick to her pinched face.

"Santa does not visit me, Tony," Ziva says slowly, as if speaking to a confused child. "I am Jewish."

Tony rolls his eyes. "Yes, I realize that, The Probie Who Stole Christmas."

In a huff, Ziva slides off his desk and glides out of his cubical. "I believe it is time to face the carols, Tony." She glances back at him over her shoulder and the movement sends a cascade of brown waves down her back. Tony's hand twitches with the urge to touch those silky strands. It's his sore one, so he grimaces. Questions rise in Ziva's eyes but he pushes past them.

"You'd do well to spend less time on the language of love and more time on English, young Ziva," Tony replies as he stands up. He starts to straighten his suit.

Because he's looking down, he misses when Ziva has invaded his space again. He gets a whiff of her shampoo, something that reminds him of tea and makes him feel all relaxed inside, as he takes in the former assassin in his face. Ziva's eyes sparkle with mischief, a grin tugs at her lips making that adorable hidden dimple in the corner of her mouth stand out. His stare drops to it immediately. She moves closer. Heat flushes his body.

"It was a pun," she growls, her sweet face a stark contrast to the threat in her tone.

"Cute, my red-nosed Probie," he grins and taps her on the nose.

Scrunching her face at him, she retreats toward the elevator. He grabs his gift and hurries after her.

* * *

_The Elevator, 5:58pm_

They are silent as the doors close in front of them. Tony looks straight ahead. He waits until Ziva's eyes flicker up to his face before he leans over and hits the emergency stop switch. Ziva barely has time to throw him a questioning look before the elevator grinds to a halt and makes them both stumble a bit.

"Do not chicken out," she says and reaches across him to turn the elevator back on. He takes the calculated risk of grabbing her and gently turning her to face him. She looks up at him questioningly.

"I'm not chickening out," he whispers, his voice coming out much softer than he anticipated. It startles her, too, and he feels the muscle under his hand relax as she focuses her attention on him. He soothes her worried expression with a smile. "Santa decided you've been a good little ninja after all."

She gives him a strange look that quickly changes to one of surprise when he lifts his hand. A white gold chain is threaded through his fingers. Ziva's eyes go wide as she takes in the pendant that swings gently from the chain, an elegant, understated Star of David.

"Tony," she breathes and just the light he sees blossom in Ziva's face makes Tony's grin widen. She traces a finger along the points of the star, following the solid and clean lines of the shape. "But…we agreed not to exchange gifts."

Tony shrugs. Like he ever intended to follow through on that promise. "You deserve it. For saving my worthless ass the other day and everything else that you do."

He regrets his choice of words the instant they leave his mouth. Ziva straightens and looks up at him in alarm. Suddenly, they are both back in Israel. Tony shakes his head, trying to clear the image. Now is not the time to go back there. Now is the time to focus on the fact that Ziva's here. In America. For good.

"I didn't mean…" He hurries to say and Ziva, clearly just as eager to switch topics as he is, waves her hand to clear the air.

"I know," she nods and they share a brief moment of understanding. He thinks. It's so hard to tell with her sometimes. But then she is looking at the necklace again, and her eyes peek up at him from beneath long lashes and her smile is soft and he finds himself feeling all melty inside again. "Thank you," she says, rather shyly for an assassin.

"Here," he gestures for her to spin around. In several clumsy movements, he has Dolores' present on the ground and Ziva's necklace free from his fingers. He finds himself measuring his breath as he carefully moves aside Ziva's hair so that her neck is bared to him. They are silent; the only sound in the small space is their breathing, slow and even. Ziva gathers her hair out of the way with one hand and he swears he sees it tremble. He has to resist the urge to run his finger over the smooth skin of her neck. Instead, he fumbles with the clasp to the necklace. He lays it gently on her skin, admiring the contrast of the light chain on her sun-kissed flesh.

When he's finished, Ziva takes a deep breath. Her hand closes over the pendant and she turns to him with shining eyes.

"I know it's not the same…." He starts to explain, "I know it could never replace the one you wore before."

"It's perfect," is all she says and studies him again with a look he thinks he's supposed to understand but, instead, just makes him feel all jittery. Like he's thirteen years old again and wondering where he's allowed to put his hands. All he can do is stare back and hope there isn't drool running down his chin.

With a sigh that could be either contented or frustrated, Ziva flips the switch to send the elevator whirring back to life. "If you think this gets you out of giving Dolores her gift, you are sorely mistaken, Saint Nick."

For a few blissful minutes, he had forgotten all about the sugarplum sourpuss upstairs.

"You just wish you celebrated this happy holiday," Tony grumbles as he lifts Dolores' present back into his arms.

Ziva just laughs at his misfortunate. He really should've looked into coal.

* * *

_The Hallway, 6:22pm_

Ziva can't stop grinning, and he can't stop staring at her. Even when Dolores wraps her bony arms around his body in some poor imitation of a hug, her treasure mashed between them, Tony finds himself seeking out Ziva's warm gaze over Dolores' head.

"Thank you, Agent DiNozzo, thank you," is all Dolores says, over and over, as her long dormant smile finally emerges.

His cheeks feel a bit warm; the heat must be really cranked up, which is odd considering it is a holiday and most people have gone home for the night. He pats Dolores on the back and steers her toward her office. He's going to have to remember this trick for the future. He wonders if Sandy in Accounting has any Christmas regrets hidden in her personnel file; he could really use a break on his expense reports.

"That was a lovely gift, Tony," Ziva says when Delores has closed herself in her office once again.

Tony looks up at his partner, aglow in the soft afterhours light and framed by the snow gently falling outside. Metaphors about Christmas trees and angels and other beautiful, fuzzy things jingle around his brain, but he bites back the urge to speak them aloud. Instead, he smiles and hopes that is enough. The twinkle in Ziva's eyes makes his palms start to sweat. He tries to discretely rub them on his pants.

"I might be giving ol' Kris Kringle a run for his money this year," he teases as they begin to walk toward the elevator. Ziva bumps her hip into his.

"Still, you probably should not have looked through her personnel file…" she chides and pushes the call button. She folds her arms across her chest, trying to be stern, and he has no choice but to argue with her.

"We have the clearance!"

"That does not give you the right to poke around anyone's records." She gives him a look that promises death by office supplies. He winces. He will never be able to beat that look.

Tony cannot resist one last whine, "But Santa gets to see you when you're sleeping! He knows when you're awake! He's omniscient! How can I compete with that?"

Ziva rolls her eyes. They listen to the elevator rattle down to their floor. Just before they enter, Ziva turns to him. "I believe Abby has some cookies left in her lab."

Tony feels his mood improve instantly. "Cookies! One of the many perks to being Father Christmas!"

* * *

_Abby's Lab, 6:27pm_

"Cookies, cookies, cookies," Tony chants to himself as he peruses Abby's lab. It is a mess of tinsel, lights, and dancing elves. "Where are the cookies?"

He pokes at a pile of bears wearing faux fur-trimmed Santa hats and is rewarded with the tinny tune of "Jingle Bells." Hunting through Abby's fridge, he comes across something that looks like either brain matter or the remains of a Jell-O mold. He quickly shuts the door.

"Ziiii-va," he whines, and looks around for his partner. "Did you lie about the cookies?"

"No, I did not," Ziva answers and Tony whirls in the direction of her voice. She's standing in the doorway between the lab and Abby's private office with a plate in her hands. Tony's stomach rumbles.

"Sugar cookies!" he exclaims and hurries over. "You were holding out on me, _Probationary_ Agent David."

Just before he can close his fingers over one of the delicious treats, Ziva snatches the plate away and places it on a table behind her. When he tries to move in the same direction, she blocks his path.

"Wait, Tony," she says firmly and places a hand on his chest. That is enough to draw his attention away from dessert and onto the woman standing in front of him. For the moment.

"Yes?" He replies, interest piqued. She drops her hand.

"I, too, participated in the Secret Santa Exchange," she confesses. The way she admits it, so matter of factly, makes him grin. This could be interesting.

"Oh, really?"

She nods.

"And who was the lucky recipient of your holiday cheer?" His mind races with possibilities. Palmer did look awfully perturbed by the giant wheel of cheese someone bestowed upon him. He had started pacing the lab and muttering something about Lactaid.

"You," Ziva answers and takes a step to close the distance between them so that they are standing toe to toe. Tony tries to take a step back, made uncomfortable by the gleam in her eye, but finds himself up against a wall.

"Umm…" is all he can stammer out. Ziva's gaze drops to his lips and his heart starts to jackhammer in his chest. He tries to find words beyond the buzzing that has started in his head. "I don't remember getting a present." It's true. He was so caught up in his own Secret Santa drama that he forgot to worry about what he was getting in return.

"Look up, Tony," Ziva murmurs and he remembers seeing this same look on her face before in the artificial light of a hotel room; he remembers what came next. He swallows and chances a look up.

"Mistletoe?" He squeaks. Put off by the sprig of green, he looks away but that proves to be a mistake because he finds himself staring into Ziva's predatory eyes once again.

"I asked Abby to put it up earlier." Ziva's breath flutters across his face as she leans in even closer and he stumbles back into he wall again. He ends up grabbing Ziva's waist for balance. Her body falls into his, warm and soft.

"You asked her to put up mistletoe?" He wonders why he's still talking when he has a sexy ninja in his arms. Ziva tilts her chin up and he swears he can feel the caress of her gaze on his face. His fingers clutch at the wool of her sweater, itching to feel the heated skin beneath it. He waits; his body tenses in anticipation.

"Happy Hanukah, Tony," Ziva purrs the heavy Hebrew syllables before she closes her mouth over his.

And then he decides that, past years be damned, Christmas is well and truly his favorite holiday.

Ziva's lips move softly over his, unsure at first. The gentle pressure is nearly too much to handle; his first thought is how he almost never got to have this moment with her, how he almost never got to taste the hint of her afternoon tea on her lips. But then hormones quickly override sentiment when Ziva pushes her body more firmly against his and runs her hand up his chest, skirting over the exposed skin there, and wraps around his neck. He takes that as his cue to run his hand over her jaw and into her hair, deepening the kiss all the while.

Long before he's finished kissing her, Ziva pulls back to rest her forehead against his. Her lips are slightly pink and swollen and the vision she makes before him may be his greatest present ever. He twirls some of her hair in his fingers. She gives him a satisfied grin. "Now who is the best Secret Santa?"

He chuckles, not wanting to admit that she may have a point. "I didn't know Santa gave out Hanukah gifts."

Ziva responds with a throaty laugh that sends pleasant sparks shooting throughout his body. "Oh, well, in that case," she takes hold of his jacket and pulls him down to her. With a sultry look, she adds, "Merry Christmas, Tony." And then she kisses him again.

Tony wastes no time in responding. This time he's certain: Christmas is the best holiday ever.

_Fin. Or is it? Vague idea for a potential part two is brewing; stay tuned (maybe)! _

_Thanks for reading! Happy holidays to all! _


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still not mine, but you can be sure I will be checking under the tree in the morning! ;-)

Thanks to all those who read and reviewed before....you deserve a whole platter of delicious cookies! Here is part two of the holiday fluff extravaganza....part 3 is still being written so I'll try and do that in the next day or two. A very Merry Christmas to all!!

* * *

_Abby's Lab, 6:51pm_

Tony is kissing her. She is kissing Tony.

She'd be smiling if her lips weren't otherwise occupied.

Tony's hands traverse her body, two adventurers mapping and exploring foreign territories, as his lips remain close to home, staking their claim on her mouth. Ziva has Tony up against a wall and she's glad for that support because her knees have never given out before with something so nonthreatening as a kiss. So she drapes her body over his and concentrates all her efforts on plundering his mouth with her tongue. She may not be the first, and may not be the last, but she has the infamous Anthony DiNozzo humming in pleasure and she _will_ leave her mark.

"Oh my god, _Ziva_," he mumbles when she nips gently at his full lower lip. She strokes his jaw with one hand, enjoying the hint of stubble that scratches her palm. Tony fits her body even closer to his. Nestled in this hidden corner in Abby's lab, she feels like they've lost themselves in a cocoon of heat and lust and daring touches. She's thankful, at least, for the steady click-whir-beep of one of Abby's computers as it runs down data even on a holiday. It keeps her from losing herself in her partner completely; she focuses on that beacon lest she forget this was only supposed to be a sweet, simple kiss under the mistletoe and she probably shouldn't be tugging Tony's shirt free of his pants.

Oh. _Oh._

Tony's hand certainly just made a pass that was neither sweet nor simple. But definitely, definitely worth all the trouble she'd gone through to end up with Tony as her Secret Santa recipient. Thrills of pleasure rush through Ziva's body in response.

"Tony," she tries to get his attention, realizing things are rapidly spiraling out of their control, but at that very moment he kisses a trail from her lips to her neck and his name sounds like more of an exaltation. She winds her fingers through his hair and urges him closer.

"Kinda busy right now," he mumbles between kisses. "Really focused on opening my gift."

Ziva makes a noise that can only be described as a giggle. She feels a chuckle rumble through Tony in reply. She can't remember the last time she ever felt this happy or carefree. She gasps in delight as Tony unexpectedly claims her mouth again.

He tastes like candy and coffee and the sensory overload she's currently experiencing is making her head spin in the most delicious way. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she uses her new position to gain leverage. She pushes up on her tiptoes and shimmies further up Tony's heated body. Her partner groans in response.

"Another Christmas miracle!"

At the sound of Abby's voice, they quickly pull away and the magic of the moment is lost. Tony's grip on her slackens and Ziva stumbles backwards a step. She tries to blink her way back to reality, tries to quell the urge she has to jump right back into Tony's warm embrace, as she sucks in some much needed air. They both fuss with their disheveled appearances. Ziva bites back a grin at the havoc she wreaked on Tony's hair.

"Uh, hey, Abby," Tony's voice comes out an octave deeper than normal. Abby's eyes widen in barely contained delight. "McInterruptus," he adds, nodding in Tim's direction.

"Looks like you guys made good use of my mistletoe," Abby grins. She gives Ziva an exaggerated wink.

There is a long, awkward moment as Ziva tries to bring herself back to a new world in which she makes out with her partner. Her brain, she finds, is still stuck in the corner, processing the sensation of Tony's hands on her body. The fact that, in addition to McGee and Abby, there are two strangers in Abby's lab, which itself looks like it was invaded and conquered by the Yuletide Spirit, makes it very hard to get her bearings.

Surely things weren't so glittery a few minutes ago?

A few more blinks and Ziva begins to feel the earth steady underneath her feet once again.

She narrows her gaze when she sees that Tim is covering the eyes of the little boy in their company. Tony must realize that fact at the same moment, too, for his hands are suddenly on her waist and shifting her body in front of his. She startles at the renewed contact. She turns to question him, but reads the plea in his eyes. Turning back to their audience, Ziva cannot hide her self-satisfied grin.

"Who are your friends?" Ziva asks, finding her voice at last.

"Oh! Silly me!" Abby jumps to introduce her guests. Tony and Ziva exchange short hellos with Abby's college friend and her nephew.

Ziva tries to pay attention as Fisher goes on in an excited voice about his gift from Santa and how cool MTAC is. The excitement in his voice is endearing and at any other time she would enjoy the display of childhood innocence. Right now, though, all she can concentrate on is the pattern of Tony's breathing behind her. He moves slightly forward so that his chest brushes her back and she hears her own breath hitch.

"Well, it's been great meeting you guys," Abby's friend, Carol, interjects when it's clear Fisher could go on talking all night. "But Fisher and I have to get home and prepare for Santa's visit tonight."

"Don't forget to leave food for the reindeer!" Abby scoops Fisher up into a big hug while McGee ruffles his hair. "I happen to know that Blitzen loves graham crackers."

"Graham crackers?" Ziva can't help but ask. Tony opens his mouth to speak but Abby's deceptively sweet death-glare shuts him up.

Carol and Fisher say their goodbyes and head out. A blanket of silence falls over the remaining team members.

"So." Tim begins, his gaze drifting up to the mistletoe.

"So?" Tony challenges and finally steps out from behind Ziva. She tries to hide a smirk at the warning on his face.

"Soooo….?" Abby urges, gesturing madly between Tony and Ziva. Her smile looks slightly evil.

"Oh, for sobbing out loud!" Ziva declares and storms out of the lab.

Before she makes it to the door, she hears Tony bumbling excuses and the telltale thump as he, presumably, jumps up to steal the mistletoe. Ziva knows he's following right behind her.

Just before she enters the stairwell, she hears Abby's cry, "Anthony DiNozzo come back here with my sugar cookies!"

* * *

_The Stairwell, 7:18pm_

Ziva doesn't make it up one flight of stairs before Tony has caught up with her.

"Whoa, there, Rudolph!" He calls out before tugging on the back of her sweater. Ziva stops in her tracks to prevent the new garment from being stretched out; she fixes him with a displeased look.

Though, once she gets a look at Tony, with his hair spiked up in twelve different directions, mistletoe in one hand, and a plate of cookies in the other, she can't help but smile. He looks ridiculous, but so completely Tony that she can't help the little balloon of happiness that lifts in her heart.

"Do not call me _Rudolph_," she scolds and turns to fully face him. Her being a step up puts them at eye level with one another.

He ignores her. With a gleam in his eye, he lifts the sprig of green over their heads again. "Since we were so rudely interrupted back there."

Rolling her eyes, Ziva turns and attempts to flee. It isn't that she doesn't want to kiss Tony again, she does, but the mistletoe was supposed to be a one-time deal. A gift. Honestly, she hadn't even entertained the idea that one chaste, innocent kiss would lead to…more kissing.

She's not quite sure she's ready for that and all that it could mean.

Tony easily catches her again, tugging on her hand this time instead of her sweater.

"Hey," his voice is much softer, and more serious, this time. "I was just trying to be funny—

"You are always just trying to be funny," Ziva sighs.

Tony's face falls. "I didn't mean to…" He struggles to find the right words, tries to spin them out of the air with his hand. "I don't know what I did, actually." He takes a deep breath. "I was just trying to kiss you again."

"Oh," is all Ziva can say in response, struck mute by the imploring look in his eyes. She feels the intensity of his gaze all the way down to her toes.

"I like kissing you," he says, a smile teasing on his lips. He moves up a step so they are back to eye-level. Ziva inhales. Tony starts to lean into her. Her eyes slide shut.

"I like kissing you," she agrees as his hand cups her cheek. Her heart begins to pound loudly in her chest; she grips his wrist to keep him close to her.

And then they are kissing again. Softly, slowly, agonizingly tenderly at first as if they are both afraid to make the first move. Ziva finally relents, throwing her arms around his neck and drawing him into her as she deepens the kiss. She hears the plate of cookies clatter to the floor. The sound echoes in the stairwell.

"Your cookies!" Ziva exclaims as she pulls away from Tony. They both turn to watch frosted angels and stars tumble down the stairs in a trail of sprinkles.

For a moment, Tony looks conflicted. She can feel his hands on her waist twitch with the urge to rescue the fallen treats. But then, he laughs.

"Totally worth it," he chuckles and kisses her on the nose.

Ziva's face flushes. "Tony…"

"I'm guessing this is the point in the evening when we have to talk, right?" He rests his forehead against hers; Ziva nods, trying not to get caught up in the blue-green-grey swirl of his eyes.

"Perhaps I should not have…led you on," Ziva begins, trying to find the right words. She pulls away from him. Tony starts to frown. "I don't know if I'm ready for this," she adds in a whisper.

She hates to admit it, because now that she's opened this particular box, she isn't sure if it can be closed again. For years, she wanted this closeness with Tony, and now that she has it, or the promise of it at least… Well, everything is just starting to feel normal again. Is she ready for her life to change again? Is she ready to risk one of the most important relationships in her life?

How easy it was to get caught up in the golden light of the holiday.

"How do you know unless we try?" Tony says, tracing a finger down her jaw. "I'm scared, too. I don't want to lose you."

Ziva shakes her head. "You won't lose me." Of that much, she is certain.

"I'm not going anywhere, either," he promises and, with that look on his face, she can't help but believe him. Ziva takes a shuddering breath. "Look, I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. If you don't want to do this… if you don't feel that way about me…"

Ziva's eyes widen in alarm. "Of course, I feel that way about you."

What, does he think she just gives out mistletoe kisses as a standard gift?

"You called me a big brother!"

Ziva racks her brain for the reference. Remembering, she scowls. "I said you were acting_ like_ a big brother. I didn't say I thought of you as one."

"Oh, well…" Tony makes a face and scratches his neck sheepishly.

Ziva switches back to the subject at hand. "A lot has changed in my life lately, Tony. I don't know if I'm ready to risk this, _us_, too."

"Risk?" Tony raises an eyebrow. "What's the worst that could happen?" Off her look, her quickly amends that. "True, it is a risk. But…I want to take that risk. I thought I lost you forever this summer, Ziva. And all the regrets… I don't want to make that mistake again."

Ziva starts to speak, but Tony silences her with a finger over her mouth. She frowns.

"We'll take it slow. Glacially slow. Like, McGee running a marathon slow." Tony gives her his most charming smile and she feels her defenses, mostly constructed of paper and sand anyway, start to crumble.

"Spend Christmas with me," Tony pleads before she can say anything. He cradles her face in his hands. "Come home with me tonight and we'll watch _It's a Wonderful Life_ and eat cookies. We'll figure this out, and then neck like teenagers. You can head butt me if I get too handsy."

Ziva chuckles. Leaning into Tony again, she tightens her hold around his neck and pulls him closer. "And if _I_ get too handsy?"

"Agent David," he leers, "I will have to take you down."

She laughs into his kiss.

Then, their cell phones both go off.

Tony groans as he attempts to ignore his. But Ziva isn't as distracted and retrieves her phone from her pocket.

"Abby?" She shows the display to Tony, who snarls as he checks his own phone.

"McDead," he confirms before hitting ignore on his phone and shoving it back into his pocket.

Ziva isn't so rude and answers the call. She listens to Abby babble on for a few minutes before hanging up. Tony watches her expectantly.

"Jackson Gibbs is requesting us over for Christmas Eve dinner. We are to be at Gibbs' house by 2000 with dessert and wine, or else."

Tony's face drops. Ziva can't say she doesn't understand the feeling.

"I want to spend this holiday with you, Tony," Ziva assures him with a small smile. She squeezes his hand in hers. "But let us celebrate with our friends, first."

With a put upon sigh, a roll of his eyes, and an impatient shuffle of his feet, Tony agrees. "Fine, but tomorrow you are making me lasagna."

Ziva snorts, and then kisses him on the cheek. "Deal."


	3. Chapter 3

Finally! The rest of the story! :-) Warning: more fluff ahead. Thanks to all of those who took the time to read and review, nothing makes me happier than a review alert in my inbox. It's even better than Christmas cookies for dinner. Yeah, I said it. I hope that everyone has a safe and happy New Year!!!

Sadly, I do not own anything here except the silly plot. Spoilers ahead for _It's a Wonderful Life_...but if you haven't seen it before, really, you deserve to be spoiled. And probably shouldn't be reading this when you could be watching that.

* * *

_Tony's Car, 7:57pm_

They were never going to make it to Gibbs' place on time, though Tony doesn't think they are doing too badly given the short notice.

After reluctantly separating from Ziva in the stairwell, they agreed that he would swing by the grocery store for dessert and the staples needed for their Christmas Day celebration. In the meantime, Ziva would head back to her place to grab some wine. Tony offered to pick up Ziva from her apartment after his grocery store run because, after all, why should they drive separately in this global climate crisis?

Secretly, he hopes that Ziva will be up for staying the night at his place. He even bought pancake mix for breakfast.

Double parking in front of Ziva's new apartment (located rather conveniently close to his), he sends her a text that he has arrived and begins to wait. He does a quick check of his hair in the rearview mirror and is pleased that he was able to tame it back into submission after Ziva had her wicked way with it.

In less than two hours, his relationship with Ziva has changed completely. Abby said it right before: it's definitely a Christmas miracle. Tony finds himself whistling along to a holiday tune on the radio. He can't remember the last time he was this excited and anxious for a date, maybe Maryanne Farwell in the 7th grade? And it's not even like this is a _date _date. He would hardly qualify being forced to spend time in the presence of Gibbs a romantic, sexy time, but nevertheless, he finds himself eager to see Ziva again, like he hasn't just kissed her goodbye less than a half an hour ago.

He smiles at the thought. He wonders when he'll get to kiss her again.

Catching Ziva's approach out of the corner of his eye, he does one last check of his hair before hopping out of his car to go open the passenger side door for her. The Mona Lisa smile on Ziva's face fades into a frown at his chivalrous gesture.

"Tony?" She looks up at him in question. "You do not have to…"

Tony shrugs, holding the door sheepishly. "The holiday spirit has overcome me."

With a huff that doesn't exactly hide her renewed grin, Ziva slides into the passenger seat. She tosses an overnight bag into the backseat and Tony can't hide the look of delight that crosses his face.

"Do not get any ideas!" She is quick to say as she turns back around in her seat. But the glimmer in her eyes reminds Tony that this woman is a trained seductress and the ideas that are currently streaming through his mind didn't just materialize out of nowhere. She deserves at least some of the blame.

It's been a long four years.

Shaking his head clear, Tony chuckles, shuts Ziva's door, and jogs back to his side of the car.

He starts whistling a tune without thought as he starts up his car. He catches Ziva watching him curiously; he smiles in response. It's only then he realizes what song has been running through his mind. He finishes it off with a flourish, "…_and dance by the light of the moon_!"

Ziva makes a face at him. "You are so weird."

Tony just waggles his eyebrows in response, but thinks he finally understands how Jimmy Stewart felt at the end of _It's a Wonderful Life_. He sends up a silent prayer of thanks, to any god that will listen, for a second chance with this woman. For a second chance at his own life.

Suddenly overwhelmed by his feelings for Ziva, and unsure how to put them into words both adequate and appropriate, he settles for grabbing her hand instead of speaking. He gives it a quick squeeze. That enigmatic smile on her lips again, Ziva studies him for a moment. Satisfied with whatever she finds in his expression, she leaves her hand in his and returns her focus to the road ahead.

* * *

_Gibbs' House, 8:21pm_

"Ziva! It's a fun holiday song. Stop being such a Scrooge."

Ziva shuffles along after Tony as they make their way to Gibbs' door. Though the walk is freshly shoveled, the temperature has dropped and the ground is a bit icy. Her boot hits a slick patch and she has to throw an arm out to catch her balance. Tony, so absorbed in defending one of his favorite Christmas songs, doesn't notice.

Righting herself, Ziva tries to remember her argument. "The lyric is _what's in this drink_! The man spiked her drink, Tony! How is that a cheery song?"

"It just is. Don't over think it," Tony says airily as he moves to open the door. He gestures for Ziva to go first. When Ziva has just about crossed in front of him, he grabs her arm to stop her. Ziva looks up, confused, but calms when she sees the look on Tony's face. It's the one he's been giving her all night—clear, bright eyes and a soft smile.

"What?" She asks, a bit self-consciously. She tries to move past him to open the door. He stops her again. His hand runs down her arm and settles at her waist. She feels the warmth of his touch even through her wool coat.

"Just 'cause I can't really do this in there," he murmurs, affection dancing in his eyes, and starts to lean into her. Ziva responds with only a raised eyebrow, but takes the hint like the trained investigator she is and starts to lean in as well.

"Hey! Look who I found hanging out on the doorstep!"

The door swings open to reveal a smiling Jackson Gibbs.

"Come in before you turn into icicles out there." The elder Gibbs stands aside to grant them entrance.

Ziva sighs at yet another interrupted moment. Tony's grin gains a plastic sheen as he tries not to look disappointed. With a gentle pressure on the small of her back, he ushers them inside.

"What could have possibly taken you two so long?" Abby asks as she appears in the foyer, the fake sweetness in her voice enough to make Ziva wince.

In a unified response, Tony and Ziva hold aloft their gifts of dessert and wine.

"Excuses, excuses," Ducky says with a wink as he pushes past Abby and grabs a bottle of wine from Ziva. "We'll be needing this now."

After a whirlwind of Christmas greetings and a quick pizza dinner, Ziva finds herself wedged between McGee and Jack on the couch with a glass of pinot noir in her hand. She sits back and listens to Ducky tell a story of a Christmas Eve he spent in Paris as a child. The doctor's hands make graceful arcs in the air as he spins his tale. A glass of wine already in her system, Ziva finds herself pleasantly zoned out, watching the faces of her friends in the glow of the crackling fire. Gibbs' living room is more festive and cheery than she's ever seen it. The house is bright and alive with the sound of laughter and the glow of the Christmas decorations.

Abby moves through the room, topping off wine glasses. She finally settles herself in the small space left next to McGee at the end of the couch, causing Ziva to be even more squished between Tim and Jackson. Gibbs watches in amusement from where he hovers at the edge of the room, nursing a mug of coffee. As Tim and Abby bicker over the small space, Jackson puts his arm around her and squeezes.

"I am thankful you are here to celebrate with us," he whispers with a twinkle in his eye. Ziva feels her cheeks warm, wondering just how much the man knows about her disappearance this summer.

"I am grateful to be here," is all she says in response, meaning every word. Jack tunes back into Ducky's story, but doesn't remove his arm. Ziva's eyes lift and immediately find Tony, standing near Gibbs. Meeting her gaze, he gives her an exaggerated wink and nods his head at the arm around her shoulders.

Ziva rolls her eyes at him, but can't hide the smile that blooms on her face. She feels like a schoolgirl again, the attention of the cute boy across the room making her stomach flip and head spin. But then Tony's expression becomes heavier, more intense, as his eyes wander over her figure and her body's reaction is all adult.

As happy as she is to be in the presence of those who are like family to her, she wishes they would all just go away. Only for a little bit. Tony stole that mistletoe from Abby's lab and Ziva isn't done playing Santa just yet.

The conversation shifts and Abby asks for a recount of Tony's gift exchange with Delores.

"Aw, Tony! You probably made her year!" Abby gushes after Tony has told the story. Then, her face darkens, as she adds, "and all Patricia Randal got me was some fancy soap. I hope that wasn't a hint or something."

"It was just a gift, Abs," Gibbs reassures, trying to hide a smirk. Abby tries to cajole an embarrassed McGee into smelling her.

"Yes, well, Agent Cortez presented me with a lovely box of chocolates," Ducky interjects, before launching into a monologue about his favorite type of candy.

Ziva listens to her coworkers detail the generic gifts they received in the Secret Santa exchange and is once again filled with pride at Tony's choice for Delores. Even if it was a little ethically questionable.

"Of course, I wound up with Agent Miller after Ziva bribed me to trade," Ducky continues, a twinkle brightening his eye. He doesn't seem to realize the impact of his revelation as he goes on about his exchange with the newly transferred agent.

Tony, however, doesn't miss a beat. His whole face lights up at the implication. He stands up straighter. Ziva shrinks a little into the couch, sensing Tony's ego is about to take up even more space in the crowded room.

"Probationary Agent David, did you _bribe_ a colleague to influence the outcome of the highly organized Official NCIS Interdepartmental Secret Santa Exchange?" Only Abby's grin displays more wattage than the smile pasted on Tony's face.

Ziva feels the eyes of everyone in the room on her. At least Tim seems as uncomfortable with this line of conversation as she is. Ziva opens her mouth before she's come up with a defense.

"I would not call it bribery in the strictest sense of the term…" Ducky tries to help her out, but it's no use: Gibbs takes up the case.

"People have been transferred to Singapore for far less." Gibbs peers at her over his mug. Ziva shifts in her seat. "I hope you had a damn good reason to break the rules."

Something in his tone of voice tells Ziva that Gibbs is, as always, aware of things he should have no way of knowing and that his choice of phrase is intentional.

She forces herself not to look at Tony, though she can envision the panic on his face. Abby looks like she might explode with their secret. Ziva just keeps her countenance steady, revealing nothing.

"So! Who's up for a game of Pictionary?" McGee suddenly stands up as the tension reaches an unbearable level. "I'll go get the paper."

Abby takes advantage of the out as well and hurries after him. "I'll find the pens!"

"You know, it's really rude to keep the elderly in the dark. What the hell am I missing?" Jackson barks, looking between his son and the remaining members of his team.

Gibbs takes a sip of his coffee. "Not much. Just that it took Ziva rigging a company gift exchange for DiNozzo to finally get his ass in gear."

Tony's mouth drops open and it seems he can't quite decide if he's shocked or offended. "It did not take…. I mean, _what_?"

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Gibbs plucks the plastic mistletoe out of Tony's jacket pocket. He dangles the sprig in the air.

Ziva can no longer hide her amazement at how well and truly Gibbs has busted them.

"Oh! Hey. How did that get there?"

Turning to Tony, Gibbs deadpans, "I don't know, DiNozzo. Why don't you tell me?"

"Well…I…uh…" Tony splutters, looking anywhere but at Ziva for help. "It's a Christmas tradition, you see, and since we didn't really have an official office party this year and that's usually how I meet all the new recruits… It's a silly, juvenile tradition, I know, but it's an effective method if you know how to play it…and how else am I going to score with all the fine ladies?" He finishes lamely.

Hiding her face in her hand, Ziva mutters a Hebrew curse under her breath. Jack chuckles.

Gibbs smacks Tony in the back of the head, earning a strangled noise from Tony.

"I can't believe you needed assistance from _a plant_," Gibbs smirks as he tosses the mistletoe back at his flustered senior agent. Then, turning, he heads off to the kitchen. "Keep it out of the office or I'll have you _both_ transferred to Singapore!"

Tony catches her eye again and the relief is plain on his features. "Uh, sorry, Ziva, I tried to cover…"

Ziva just shakes her head.

Grumbling, Jackson eases himself to his feet. "I don't know, Ziva. Any man that relies on a ruse to kiss a gorgeous girl probably doesn't deserve the privilege." He winks at her. Ziva laughs.

"I did not need a ruse!" Tony protests as Jackson hobbles by him.

"Whatever you say, kiddo," the old man smirks.

"Ziva?" Tony looks to her for help. Trying to hide her grin, Ziva shrugs.

"Well, ruse or not," Ducky says as he stands. "I'm glad you two finally realized that love is not something to be wasted or ignored. And what a lovely opportunity to take advantage of, Ziva! As Emerson once said, the greatest gift is a portion of thyself."

"Er, right, thanks, Duckman," Tony says as he makes his way over to Ziva on the couch. When Ducky clears the room, Tony offers her a hand.

Accepting his help, Ziva lets Tony pull her up off the couch and into his personal space. She thinks she should be upset or bothered by this rather public unveiling of their nascent relationship, if they can even call it a relationship yet, but Tony looks happier than she's ever seen him and the sentiment must be contagious because her she can't seem to stop her lips from curling up into a smile.

"I guess the cat is out of the cage," Ziva says. She takes the mistletoe out of Tony's hand and tucks it back into his pocket.

"Yes, and the _bag_, too," he smirks, placing his hands on her hips. Just the barest brush of his thumb across a sliver of exposed skin is enough to make her shiver in delight.

Framing her partner's face with her hands, Ziva leans her forehead against his and grins. "I know. I got that one wrong on purpose."

Tony just laughs and kisses her again. Finally. Ziva melts into his touch.

After a few seconds, she pulls away. She wipes phantom lipstick from his lips. Her body is buzzing, a combination of the wine, holiday cheer, and the heady sensation of Tony's body pressed so closely to hers.

"Perhaps it is time for us to have that Christmas celebration you promised me?" Ziva looks up at Tony from under her eyelashes and relishes the dreamy smile that eases across his lips.

"I'll go get our coats!" He agrees, kissing her quick on the cheek before heading towards the foyer. "You break it to Gibbs that we are leaving."

"Hey!" Ziva protests, not happy with her task.

"Just like I thought—a chicken shit," Jack interrupts from behind Ziva. Turning, Ziva catches a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Not unlike the look Gibbs gets when he's messing with Tony.

Ziva chuckles. "But I forgive him for it."

"Tell ya what," Gibbs' father says as he advances toward Ziva. "I'll handle my son while you two kids sneak out. I'm sure you've got better things to do than sit around drawing pictures." He winks at her.

"Thank you, Jack," Ziva replies, giving the man a kiss on the cheek. He waves her off with a smile.

"Psst, Ziva," Tony calls from the foyer, waving her coat at her, "Tiny Tim just spilled eggnog all over the boss-man. Let's motor before it congeals!"

They say quick goodbyes to Jackson before stealing off into the cold night.

* * *

_Tony's Apartment, 4:57 a.m._

_Christmas Morning_

Any other day of the year, Tony is content to sleep in until the sun, or his alarm clock, can no longer be ignored.

But Christmas is different.

And even though it has been decades since he has had piles of mysterious presents under the tree to look forward to and even if every year the holiday's luster wears off by six in the morning, his inner five year-old refuses to let him sleep past five on Christmas morning.

There may be no presents under his tree this year, hell, he doesn't even have a tree, but, nevertheless, Santa has left a doozy of a gift in his bed.

Tony props himself up on his elbow to get a better view of the former assassin curled up next to him. Bundled up in one of his old BPD sweatshirts, hair a wild mess, Ziva snores softly into one of his pillows. A shimmer of light catches his eye. He traces his finger over the delicate chain of white gold that rests against Ziva's skin. She had refused to take it off the night before.

Ziva senses his touch and swats him away. She mumbles something in her sleep, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

Grinning, Tony presses a ghost of a kiss to her forehead before bouncing out of bed. As he goes about his morning routine, he finds that things have never looked quite so good on a holiday that has typically brought nothing but gold-embossed disappointments in his past.

He sets the volume low on his sound system and restarts _It's A Wonderful Life_ on the DVD player. Last night, they didn't even make it past George and Mary's fall into the pool before becoming impossibly wrapped up in one another. True to his word, they kept things close to a PG-13 rating. But true to Ziva's word, she did get a little handsy at times. Okay, a lot of the time.

Not that he's complaining.

Tony cannot remember a morning after ever feeling this good. Especially a morning after that didn't involve sex in the technical sense of the word.

Maintaining a running dialogue with the movie playing in his living room, Tony sets to work on making breakfast. He's flipped the last pancake onto a plate when Ziva sneaks up on him from behind, wrapping her arms around his body.

"Merry Christmas, my hairy elf," Ziva singsongs.

Tony makes a face. "There are so many things wrong with that image."

Ziva snorts and runs her hand over his hairy chest. "I disagree."

"Could you make yourself useful and grab the syrup, my little sugarplum fairy?" Tony asks, voice sickly sweet. He manages to duck just in time, feeling a bottle whiz by his head. "Thank you, candy cane!"

A short while later, they have eaten their breakfast and returned to the couch to watch the movie. Ziva is curled up against him, head resting right over his heart. He never would've pegged the ninja as a snuggler but is pleasantly surprised to find her cuddly as a kitten. His attention is only half on the film as he toys with Ziva's hair.

Sunlight is peaking through the curtains now, made even brighter by the blanket of fresh snow covering the city.

"Check it out, Ziva," he murmurs into her ear. She's engrossed by the drama unfolding in black and white on the television and it takes her a moment to respond.

"Mmm, what?"

"It's a white Christmas!" He can't keep the delight out of his voice. Ziva tears her eyes from the screen to meet his. She smiles.

"Yes, that's nice," Ziva replies, though he can tell she doesn't quite get it.

"You don't understand. It's a white Christmas!" he starts to sing for her, "_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas_—

"I know the song, Tony."

"…_just like the ones I used to know. Where the tree tops glisten and children listen_…" He keeps singing right into her ear until Ziva breaks down and laughs.

"Ah, yes, I forgot," she gives up on the movie and turns in his arms to face him, eyes dancing with mischief. "This was another one of my gifts to you. A white Christmas. I knew that Santa was too busy with all the other children to bring you any toys. And because you have no fireplace—

"Santa can come through doors and windows."

"Oh, right, of course, well since you have no _tree_." Tony starts to protest again but Ziva puts a finger to his lips. He nips at it playfully. "I asked Santa to bring you a white Christmas."

"Ziva, you are truly the best Secret Santa ever," he says before kissing her soundly and, though his tone is one of exaggerated praise, he means every word.

Even if he's pretty sure she beat him in a photo finish.

That damn doll was hard to find.

_Fin._


End file.
